


Hot Chocolate and Scones

by thesterekshipper



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: 1995, Gen, The boys are dead, and literally willie just...came in like he just appeared out of no where when I was writing, this is about the aftermath with Bobby, this is also based on the headcanon that Bobby knew about the HGC, this is also kinda dark in the beginning sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28001277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesterekshipper/pseuds/thesterekshipper
Summary: After his three best friends died, Bobby was floating through life. No motivation, no hope. Can something change that?
Relationships: Bobby & Willie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Hot Chocolate and Scones

**Author's Note:**

> this makes no sense, but i'm latching onto the headcanon that bobby and willie might have known each other before Tumblr can. so I claim this headcanon. sorry not sorry
> 
> also this makes absolutely no sense I just wanted to get it out of my head. feel free to roast me. 
> 
> but enjoy if you can :)

Bobby sighed, long and deep. He brought his hand up to his shaggy hair and started to run his finger through it to untangle some of the strands, but when his fingers snagged, he gave up and rested his heavy hand on his head. He was so gloomy, and the weather outside reflected this. The clouds weren’t dark, but they were covering the blue sky so that no straight sunlight could filter through. 

He sat in his little apartment alone, the sounds of his heater grinding away in the background. New York City wasn’t a bad place to live, but without his bandmates, it was hard to imagine himself becoming a “rising star” in NYC when they weren’t there. He had only moved to NYC six months ago on a whim, when he turned 18. He graduated high school without his friends, had to watch as the families he had grown so close to shatter at the seams to never be put back together again. He might not have liked Alex’s parents much, considering what they did to him, or Reggie’s parents for their treatment of their son, but neither family deserved to lose their loved ones. It was even worse to watch the series of events unfold with Luke, when he ran away all the way up to the point when the last time his parents ever got to see him was as a dead body. 

Bobby squeezed his eyes shut. It had been just under a year since his friends died. He couldn’t get over his shaky feelings like this wasn’t what was meant to happen. He supposed it never really was, dying like that so young. He wondered if he ought to take a trip back home, see how everyone was doing. He knew that would only make it hurt more, but it was the right thing to do. 

_ If only I had the money,  _ he thought.  _ Gas is getting more expensive by the hour.  _

He grabbed his coat and decided to take a walk. If there was anything you could do in NYC, it was walk. 

He got down the stairs of his apartment complex and shrugged on his coat, looking both ways before ultimately deciding to turn right. He put his hands in his pockets and headed for a little cafe at the end of the block. They had amazing pastries. 

The chime of the bell when he opened the cafe door sounded like a christmas bell, and made him feel worse about the impending holidays, much less the memories that came along with it. He ordered himself a hot chocolate and a scone, and sat at a nearby corner table diagonal to an older couple sitting in a booth. They huddled close, his arm around her shoulder. They had small smiles on their faces, and Bobby couldn’t help but feel jealous. 

The woman finally looked up and noticed him sitting there. She softly smiled at him, then took a look at his state and his face. 

“Oh dear,” she said. “Well, are you alright, sweetheart? Weather got you down?” 

She sounded posh and rich, but in a  _ “I won’t tell you that I’m rich, it’s just implied”  _ kind of way. Bobby might have sneered at her on any other day, but he stopped himself before he could. 

Bobby tried to smile back. “Just...the holidays, I guess. Sad memories and all.”

She pursed her lips in that knowing way. “Yes, dear, I know the feeling. Holidays can be very sad, can’t they? Melancholy moments are just a part of the season, I suppose.”

Bobby didn’t reply. He was getting tired of them already, and he hadn’t even started his scone yet. The couple frowned at him, then glanced at each other with questioning gazes. Without speaking, they came to an agreement, and turned back to face him simultaneously. 

“Say, dearie, how would you like to have an extra ticket to a...show with us tonight? I think you’d enjoy it, and I know it would get your mind off your ever-present frown lines on that forehead of yours?” 

Bobby was almost offended, but was more intrigued by the thought of a show. He figured it must be a broadway show, as this was NYC after all, and mulled it over before replying.

“Yeah, I mean I guess it might be nice. Uh, thanks.”

She nodded her head. “Oh, no problem dear.” She handed over a small piece of paper. “Just follow the instructions on the back to get there, and be sure to dress in formal wear.”

Bobby was confused, and drew his eyebrows together. Before he got a chance to flip over the card, the woman began talking again. 

“We have to go now, dearie, but don’t be late! It’s a spectacular show, really, and you don’t want to miss it. Follow the instructions, remember. I suppose we’ll see you later, now, sweetheart. Bye-bye!”

And then the couple was gone. Bobby was left confused, drink half cold and scone untouched, wondering just what on earth was happening. It didn’t even cross his mind that the couple might be some crazy psycho serial killers, but even if they were, it would be a chance to see his friends again. 

With that, he grabbed his scone to-go and went back to his apartment to look for something that could pass as formal wear. 

\---

He was sure this was the wrong place. He was definitely getting murdered tonight. 

He arrived from the instructions on the back of the card, only to find a huge abandoned industrial building that was worn down, no “show” in sight. 

He decided if he was going to be murdered, might as well make it quick.

Stepping inside, he made some turns before spotting some people next to a large double door. They were dressed to the nines in suits, and Bobby thought that was definitely sketchier than getting murdered. Out of whatever stupidity that possessed him, he walked up to the two men, hands awkwardly in his pockets. 

“Ticket.” 

The man on the left had spoken to him. He was staring straight at him, cold eyes calculating. He was probably looking at his outfit, which consisted of a black button up shirt and his classic suspenders, only this time in a stylish maroon color instead of his normal bright red. He still had on black skinny jeans, so he hoped they didn’t look too hard. 

He held out the card the old woman had given him and the suit man looked down at it, then back up at him. He took a long breath in, then opened the door for him reluctantly. 

Bobby nodded his thanks, and stepped into the room. He knew that these people were rich, but he didn’t know their murder schemes were this organized. 

_ Really organized.  _

The room was huge, sparkly, and bright. People were laughing, dancing to the band at the front, and eating food that looked so fancy it was hurting his broke soul. He looked over the head, trying to find the people that invited him there. He spotted them sitting at a table near the front, eating crackers from the platter in front of them. He made his way over to them, enjoying the sights of the room as he walked. 

The woman spotted him, and smiled bright before hopping up and meeting him halfway. 

“Oh dear, I’m so glad you’re here! Sit, sit. Cracker?”

He was ushered by the elbow to sit at the seats surrounding the round table. The red velvet tablecloth was dusted with glitter, and had a marvelous centerpiece that had red roses, sparkly red ornaments, and some tinsel. 

Bobby was sitting eating a cracker and listening to the woman talk about the scenery of the “club.” There were so many questions that he had, all running through his brain, but they were put on pause once the lights on stage came up and the house lights dimmed. By the time he had turned to the front, a man was already on stage wearing a long cape, shining in the stage lighting. The man was speaking, but Bobby’s head was still spinning from his questions. 

The music started, and he was sucked in once again to the allure on stage. He was singing, the notes of the song strong. The chorus was building, and then suddenly―

―there were people on stage.  _ Who had not been there before. Like...magic.  _

Bobby didn’t know what was happening. His breathing had started to pick up, and his eyes were darting around to all the dancers, suddenly nervous. He needed to get out of here.

He startled with a touch on his arm. He looked to the woman, who pinned him with a questioning glance. 

He shakily asked, “What...what are they?”

She breathed out, “You don’t know? Did you not read the invitation? They’re ghosts, dear. This is a Ghost Club.” 

Bobby nodded without thinking about it, but left his eyes trained on the floor. He didn’t trust his hands, and he could tell they were shaking. He needed to make his way out of sight, to a bathroom,  _ do ghosts even need to _ ―no, he needs to stop thinking and leave. 

He stood, hearing the woman make concerned noises at him, but he didn’t hear them at all.  _ Ghosts were real. His friends _ ― _ they could be ghosts. He might be able to see them again.  _

He made his way to a random hallway and saw a door, and without thinking about it opened it. It was some kind of break room, which had a refrigerador, some chairs, and a sink with some empty cups in it. He shut the door, putting his back to it and slowly sliding down. He calmed his breathing down, taking it all in. His eyes were shut and he was focused on the heavy sound of his breathing, and he didn’t notice the sound of footsteps. 

“Um, hello? Who are you?”

He opened his eyes to a boy, with beautiful long brown hair and a tye-dye purple and yellow crop top. He was frowning at him, and he moved to go comfort Bobby. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m fine. I just…”

“Ghosts freak you out more now that you’ve actually seen one?”

Bobby looked up at him wide-eyed., then took on a sheepish look. “Yeah. That obvious?”

The boy considered it, then smiled. “Yes.”

They shared a little chuckle. “I’m Willie.”

Bobby stuck out his hand. “I’m Bobby.”

Willie looked at his hand, smile faltering, and looked back up at him.

Bobby’s eyebrows scrunched up, then he realized. “You’re a ghost, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Willie said, sounding guilty. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you can’t help it, I guess.”

Willie moved to sit down next to him, back to the wall and knees bent to his chest. He turned to look at Bobby, smiling slightly. “So, how did you hear about the Ghost Club we have here?”

Bobby explained the story of the couple, and Willie was smiling the entire time, chuckling occasionally. 

“Yeah, that’s Alma and Fred. They’re...rich and weird. Not kidding.”

“Yeah really. She’s so posh, it sounds like she’s one second away from saying ‘Tally ho, dear fellow!’”

They laughed out loud, and they turned to face one another again. Willie sighed, still smiling. 

“Feel better?”

Bobby smiled back, and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie smiled all the way to his eyes, crinkles around the corners of them. 

“Of course, Bobby.”

Bobby, feeling a lot better, smirked and couldn’t stop himself before he said―

“Hey, you know, I’m gonna be famous one day.”

Willie’s mouth opened in shock, never losing it’s smile. “Yeah? What’s gonna be your inspiration? The club? I bet you could write some great stuff from this place.”

“No, not the club. Just you.”

Willie genuinely looked floored, and Bobby’s smile faltered when he realized what he had just said. Why did he say that? He retained his facade, looking at Willie again.

“Me? Well, you better get to writing all those songs about me.” 

Bobby stood, and Willie followed. 

“Don’t worry. That won’t be too hard.”

And with that, Bobby grabbed the door handle, looked back once more at Willie, smiled at him, and walked out. 

**Author's Note:**

> come scream on tumblr with me about this if you'd like @babiewillie


End file.
